


The Angel Condition

by Bismuthe



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deckerstar - Freeform, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Devil Reveal, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, a lot of angst before fluff but it'll get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-12-06 23:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18226592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bismuthe/pseuds/Bismuthe
Summary: "How do you know what I deserve?" When Lucifer can't deal with the consequences of Uriel's death and goes off the deep end, Chloe takes it upon herself to piece him back together.Set during s2e6, "Monster".





	1. Sail

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all.
> 
> I need to specify that this story deals with some heavy issues, so please be mindful of the tags before you continue.  
> Title credit goes to AWOLNATION. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Chloe sat at her desk in the precinct, shoulders tense as she went over the stack of case files in front of her. Her steel blue eyes read over the same paragraphs over and over again without making any sense of the words written on the papers. She was supposed to hand them in soon but the detective was nowhere near finishing them. The pen in her hand tapped thoughtlessly against the desk as her mind wandered off to what had happened between her and her partner just a few hours prior.

She remembered talking to him right after apprehending the sniper.

“How do you know what I deserve?”  
Lucifer’s voice was tired, rough like the jagged glass that was shattered to hundreds of pieces under his and Chloe’s shoes. Chloe had looked him in the eyes, noticing the dark rings underneath that went along with his disheveled black hair sticking out in different directions. She had never seen him this distressed.

She had asked him to talk to her, to give her an inkling of an idea what was so wrong with him so maybe, just maybe she could help him. But he had simply stood silent, peering at her with his dark eyes, lips parted to say unspoken words. Her eyes stung, vision blurring from the sudden welling tears. Chloe had quickly told him to talk to his therapist before she could fall apart in front of him and she left for the precinct immediately after. A lump formed in her throat thinking about him again.

“Decker! Nice job on the case!”  
Chloe jumped at the sudden intrusion as Ella swooped in out of nowhere. The detective snapped out of the trance in an instant. The forensics scientist was holding a steaming cup of coffee in each hand with a big smile on her face.

“Almond milk latte with vanilla, just how you like it. Thought we could celebrate the occasion,” Ella said, cheerfully handing one of the cups to the detective.

“Thanks, Ella.” Chloe wrapped her hands around the plastic container. The radiating warmth was a welcome sensation for her cold hands. “I thought you’d left already?”

The forensics scientist curled her lips and tilted her head in reply, “I was supposed to, but I _may_ have gotten a bit distracted talking to the guys at FSD. Watkins told me about this kickass science bar down in central we got to check out!” She shook her hands in excitement and started going on about how the place had drinks named after chemical compounds Chloe could never wrap her head around.

The detective nodded in reply, not really listening to what she was saying. One word about Ella’s forensics science-y stuff and she had already started thinking about Lucifer again. She bit her lower lip to distract herself from her mind wandering off to that subject.

“Anyway, I need to finish the reports from today before I leave. I’d help you with yours but I got stuff I need to handle,” Ella finally said as she pointed to the pile of papers resting on top of the detective’s desk. She looked expectantly at Chloe for a reply but sighed when she nodded her head once more. “Chloe, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine! Nothing wrong here. Not at all,” she replied a bit too fast. Ella looked at her with squinted eyes and crossed her arms.

Chloe let out a sigh, “Okay, I lied. I really appreciate the coffee and the pep talk, I’m just…” She drummed her fingers on the desk, “I’m just really worried for Lucifer. Have you noticed anything off about him?”

“I saw him stealing Dan’s pudding from the fridge yesterday if that’s what you mean,” Ella lowered her voice and leaned in a bit, “but you didn’t hear that from me, okay?”

“No, not like that. This is serious, Ella. He’s been evasive recently, even more than usual. He keeps lashing out on everything and I think he’s dealing with some personal stuff right now, but he won’t talk to me.” Chloe took a sip from her coffee in an attempt to rid herself of the constricting feeling reforming in her throat.

Ella’s eyes widened at the unexpected change of subject. She took the empty seat next to the detective’s desk. “Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you were being serious. Now that you mention it, he _has_ been acting weird. Maybe it’s just his method actor shtick?”

“No, no, I’m sure it’s not that,” Chloe replied with a vigorous shake of her head. She wanted to be there for him, but Lucifer wasn’t making it easy.

“You can always give him a call.” Ella leaned in from her seat, a devilish grin appearing on her face, “Maybe take him out for dinner? That’ll give him something to talk about for _days_.”

A smirk replaced Chloe’s frown of worry, and then the room resounded with the sound of her soft laughter. The idea of her and her partner out on a dinner date, spending some time outside the stress and chaos of their workplace seemed nice enough. She felt her cheeks warm up but with a shake of her head she banished the thought, otherwise Ella would never shut up about them.

Lucifer had been very distressed in the past few days and if he wasn’t going to talk to her, the least she could do was make him feel better in another way.

“You’re right. I should.” Chloe smiled at her, “Spend time with him, I mean. Definitely not taking him out to a dinner date.” The forensics scientist laughed at the interjection and Chloe joined her in unison.  
“Thanks, Ella.”

“Aw, no problem!” Ella replied, her features softening. She glanced at her wristwatch and with that she shot up from her seat, the sudden movement making Chloe jump a bit in her place. “Shit, I need to get my paperwork done soon! I’ll catch you later, Chlo!” She dashed off to her forensics lab and slammed the door to her office with a loud bang.

The detective sank back in her seat and took a long sip from her coffee cup. The bitter taste was a pleasant distraction from everything that was going on with her at the moment. Ella was right; she could give Lucifer some space for the day, wait for him to come back to the precinct the following morning and ask him to spend time together. There was no way in Hell he would turn down such an offer.  
A warm feeling arose in her chest. She smiled sheepishly to herself now that a semblance of reassurance was given to her.

The detective set the now empty cup of latte away and with a heavy sigh she pulled the heap of papers towards herself, ready to power through them with newfound energy.

She was going to be fine. _Lucifer_ was going to be fine.

*

With every sudden turn of his Corvette the tires screeched on asphalt and left behind a plume of smoke in their wake. Cars honked as the vehicle sped through the streets and threatened to swerve into them at any moment. The evening city lights reflecting on the car’s dashboard tinged Lucifer’s hands red and blue, hiding his white knuckles as he dug his fingers into the steering wheel. He had just left the crime scene – and the Detective – and he needed a drink. Badly.

“Just a few more minutes,” he whispered to himself. He just needed to drive for a bit more before he could hole himself up in his penthouse and drink away. He couldn’t care less about the other vehicles screeching to a halt when he floored the gas pedal to reach his destination any sooner.

His thoughts were a mix of worry, stress and an unhealthy amount of self-loathing bottled up so much he could practically feel them suffocating him. What was he even going to tell Linda? He let out a groan of desperation. His dark eyes stung and he felt the wetness on his skin, a sob threatening to escape his throat.

The radio boomed to life with a swift flick and static spilled into the air, replacing the silence. Lucifer changed the stations, fingers frantically twisting the knob to find something, _anything_ to hush his thoughts and give him some peace. The crackle of the radio died out after a moment and smooth jazz finally flowed out of the speakers. A faint smile appeared on his lips; the music was soothing, like putting a pack of ice on a wound.

 “Ah, finally!” he exclaimed as the club came into view. The Corvette came to a stop in front of the building and Lucifer hurried out. He swiftly climbed the stairs and entered the elevator, slamming his fist on the level Lux was.  
He grimaced at the pressure building up behind his eyes.  
The elevator dinged softly at its arrival to the club. The place looked tranquil but robbed of its usual boisterous spirit without the crowd of attendees.

“Good, just the way I want it,” he said to himself and walked into the club. Patrick was manning the bar, quietly sorting drinks and glasses before he was swarmed by demanding customers.

“Shut Lux down until I say so.” Lucifer approached the bar and on cue the bartender poured him a drink. “Do not let anyone into the club or the penthouse, or,” he took a sip from his whiskey, “I’ll throw every single person out myself.”

“Everything okay, boss?”

Lucifer slammed his shot glass onto the bar top and it gracelessly fractured into pieces. The pressure in his head was getting worse, threatening to turn into a headache. “I don’t pay you to ask questions, Patrick.”

Without another word he took off towards the elevator, gritting his teeth. He didn’t want to think about anything at the moment, absolutely not. The ride up to the penthouse seemed to take even longer than usual. When the cabin came to a soft stop at his home he let out a deep breath he didn’t even notice he was holding.

The Devil strode towards the array of drinks stocked onto the shelves and thoughtlessly took out two bottles. He didn’t even bother taking out a glass, instead he rushed to his piano and set them on top of the instrument. Shaking hands uncapped one of the bottles, clinging to it like it was a lifeline.

His heart ached so much it was getting unbearable. He couldn’t go on a second without guilt crushing his consciousness, shattering it to pieces like it was nothing. Why didn’t the bloody sniper end his miserable existence? He _deserved_ it, didn’t he?  
He downed the bottle before he set it aside and held his head in his hands.

“Shouldn’t have gone to the bastard to get the job done anyway,” He spoke, his voice rough like sandpaper. “Never trust someone else to do your own bidding.” His eyes stung once more but this time he didn’t hold the tears at bay.

He had an appointment with Linda the following day. What was he going to say? _Doctor, I may have murdered my own brother with Azrael’s blade to save Chloe’s life._ He scoffed at the thought; she was going to tell him it was just another metaphor, wasn’t that how it always went? No one believed a single word he said despite his honesty.

But wasn’t it better if neither Linda or Chloe knew the truth? Why should he tell them? Reveal his true self, the charred and rough skin that he used to _punish_ criminals with? Tell them he stabbed his own brother, his own flesh and blood and watched him bleed out in his arms?

Little Uriel, the younger brother he picked on when they were still a family, the same brother he loved to fly and visit stars with was really gone wasn’t he?

 

They couldn’t know.

 

A sob escaped his lips and tears fell onto the wooden surface of his piano.

“You sick manipulative bastard!” Lucifer screamed with all the might he held in his body. “Is this what you wanted?! Has this all been a bloody game to you?!” He shot up from his seat, grabbed the empty bottle of scotch and tossed it across the room. A satisfying crack followed after.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you? You knew and yet you didn’t do a single thing to stop it!” He took the other bottle from where it sat. The cold glass contrasted against his warm skin. He swigged the contents in an instant and flung the container to the floor.

His eyes turned a threatening glowing red.

This was all his father’s fault. It always was.

But how could he deny the fact that it was _himself_ that mercilessly killed his own brother?

“You wanted me to suffer for what I’ve done?” His voice shook with anger he couldn’t hold in anymore. “Of course! Why else would you send Mum and Uriel of all people down here?! Uriel, he’s- he’s dead! I did it! And the Detective, she has nothing to do with all of this, yet you go ahead and try to take the only person I care for-“

The words died out in his throat before he could continue any further. Another sob escaped his parted lips. And another one. And another.  
He stumbled back to the piano stool and sat. Its cushion deflated under his exhausted form.

“You got what you wanted. You want me to suffer. Anyone I dare get close to ends up getting hurt,” he whispered, his voice trembling with sadness. “I can’t- I can’t-“

He was the Devil, evil incarnate. He wasn’t worthy of anything better.  
But that didn’t mean the people around him deserved the pain he caused them.

He wiped the tears away with his palm.

 

Lucifer Morningstar didn’t deserve to live.

 

The words he couldn’t bring himself to express amalgamated into a scream so harsh it burned his throat. He sprang from his place and his mighty hands picked up the stool he was sitting on. With a quick, angry swing he smashed it onto the piano and broke it into a pile of splinters.  
He couldn’t keep his emotions restrained anymore as he released his anger on the furniture, wrecking anything he came into contact with.

Books fell from the bookcase to the floor, pages were ripped out mercilessly and piano keys sprawled about everywhere in the penthouse. Entire shelves of drinks were reduced to particles as he threw every container of alcohol around. He yelled his guts out, broke glass and tore down the furniture to small pieces until he couldn’t go on anymore and fell to his knees.

By the time he was done the penthouse was almost unrecognizable. Dust and splinters specked his black Prada suit and sweat rolled down his forehead. Lucifer’s chest heaved as an excruciating headache pounded in his skull, the pain beating against his cranium like hot iron digging into flesh. The house wasn’t looking any better with shards littering the floor. Puddles of alcohol stained the marble under his feet and chips of wood coated every surface.

“You win, Dad,” he mumbled. His voice carried none of the fury he held as he had spent it on tearing his home down to the ground. Guilt constricted his chest and he struggled to breathe for a moment.

Slowly he arose from his place and staggered to his bedroom, the only place that had been safe from his destruction. That was the best he could do, wasn’t it? He left chaos and pain where he set foot and ruined everything whether he meant to or not. He had hurt the Detective, Uriel and even Amenadiel because he couldn’t help but be a selfish bastard.

Lucifer threw himself on the mattress with a grunt. He took off his suit and fished out his phone from one of its pockets to text his therapist. The screen’s light burned his reddened eyes.  
He carelessly composed a message to Linda and threw his phone on the nightstand next to the bed.

 _I’m not attending tomorrow’s session,_ the message said.

His head hurt and his body ached but nothing could compare to the crushing pain he felt in his heart. Lucifer smiled sadly as he thought about Chloe and how her smile made him feel invincible despite his mortality. But he didn’t deserve her. She needed someone better in her life, not someone like the Devil who could never even reveal his true identity in fear of scaring her away.

Even that was selfish, wasn’t it? He withheld the truth from her for his own gain because for once in eons she made him feel _happy._

“It should have been _me_ instead of Uriel,” he spoke, “I should be lying in that shallow grave I dug.”

His tired eyes widened at the revelation he just made. A tremor overtook his body at the idea. He had been such a spineless coward to do anything himself so he had walked into the sniper’s line of fire, hoping the killer would finish him off. But this time…

 

“Azrael’s blade.”

 

He pushed himself up with every muscle in his body begging him to rest. Lucifer ignored the exhaustion and made his way to the elevator, debris cracking under his shoes as he stumbled weakly.  
He was really going to do this, wasn’t he? Should he write something for the Detective? One last pitiful word? Anything?

No, it was best if he left quietly.

Lucifer rode the elevator down, leaving the penthouse in a state of utter disarray. The sun was beginning to set when he walked out of the building. The orange hues of the sun shone brightly in the polished chassis of his car.

He got into the Corvette, his tired form ready to give out as he sunk into the driver’s seat. The engine roared and the same jazz music started playing from the radio. His addled mind needed rest but he ignored it and mindlessly drove out of Los Angeles to where Uriel was buried, his lifeless corpse sitting still in a pathetic grave.

Lucifer was going to do what the sniper couldn’t. He was going to dig out Azrael’s blade and finish it.

After all, what was a better punishment than ceasing to exist and never seeing his Detective again?


	2. I Saw The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by the support this fic has received so far. Thank you for every comment, kudos and subscription. 
> 
> Title credit goes to Ardency.

It was a pleasure to punish.

It was a special pleasure to _deliver_ punishment. Lucifer held on to Azrael’s blade and its hilt fit right into the ridges of his hand as if it belonged there. The refined steel glinted in the soft glowing lights of Lux, giving it even more of an ethereal aura.

He could hear it calling his name.

Hours had passed since he had dug up Uriel’s grave. His once shiny cufflinks and crisp coat were now caked with dirt but he couldn’t care less even if he tried.

The club was empty like he had ordered. Rows of empty bottles dotted every table top in Lux, some toppled to the ground and others broken to pieces, making the place look like a violent fight had broken out. He sat behind the piano with racks of glass stacked on the instrument. The ashtray near him was full with cigarette butts and it still housed a half-lit stick lazily giving off smoke. Next to it was a full bottle of whiskey he had yet to go through.

He hadn’t slept a wink that night after driving out of the city.

He had spent hours drinking. Thinking.

He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched as he tried to shut everything out. He didn’t want to feel the pain and guilt anymore. He had had enough.  
His headache had long subsided, but an ever-present pressure beat in his skull from the earlier emotional outburst.

His eyes stung from exhaustion. Lucifer examined the blade in his hand for the hundredth time, noticing every tiny detail carved into the handle. The clean, silver dagger against his dirtied skin felt wrong, like pristine silk splotched with ink. He grimaced at the sight; he hated dirt. It reminded him of the ash and sulfur in Hell, their disgusting presence and smell never leaving him alone. Carefully he set the blade on the polished surface of the piano and strode to the bathroom, stumbling under the influence of the alcohol in his system.

Cold water ran on his skin and soothed his nerves. He could barely register what he was doing, like a spectator watching events unfold from a glass room. He yanked several paper towels from the dispenser and scrubbed his skin with increasing pressure.

Maybe if he tried hard enough he could wash off the scarred tissue of his hands alongside the dirt.

His hands stung under the flowing water and the irritated skin gradually reddened from the constant harsh pulling of rough paper. Why was he even trying?

His feet carried him back to the piano and he watched his surroundings distantly, as if he had no control over his limbs anymore. He couldn’t understand how he carried his body over or how he ended up drinking half of the whiskey bottle’s content in one go. Shaking hands supported his weight on the instrument, but his mind was far away, fighting a truth he had subconsciously accepted but hadn’t grasped at full force yet.

There was nowhere he could hide.

He could put as much distance between him and the truth as he wanted, but it changed nothing.

He pretended to be everything he wasn’t; his own person, defying laws and bending rules to get his way.

But there was one unavoidable truth he had been running from for eons, trying so desperately to prove to himself otherwise. It was time he finally accepted it. And accepting the truth was painful, but that was what he deserved.

He could never change. He would always be a monster.

“I know,” Lucifer whispered. Something in him snapped, like an anchor tethering him to reality breaking apart with a slight nudge. The gravity of what he had been running away from hit him full force and this time he didn’t struggle against it. His breath hitched and his hands went to his hair, pulling at the strands.

The blinking LED of his phone next to the ashtray caught his attention. He had ignored it all night, but desperate to hold onto anything he picked it up, hoping that the texts he’d received were from Chloe. Even then he was searching for a sliver of reassurance, something to tell him that even when he believed himself a monster, she thought otherwise.

He gritted his teeth when he saw Linda’s name flash on the screen. Reluctantly he opened the unread messages.

_Lucifer, I’m worried for you. (20:11 PM)_

_Please call me as soon as you can. (20:16 PM)_

They were from the night before.

With a grunt he set the phone back on the piano. He wanted to call Chloe and hear her voice one last time before he did anything else. Something in him fought against that desire before he could give up, throw the blade aside and hide again like the coward that he was.

So he didn’t. He didn’t want to change his mind now. Hadn’t he caused Chloe enough pain? Hadn’t he caused _everyone_ around him enough pain?

“I bet you’re having a field trip, Dad,” Lucifer spat and looked up at the ceiling, imagining his father smiling sadistically at him. He stood in front of the piano and took Azrael’s blade in his shaking hands, both palms enveloping the hilt. “Your most disappointing creation yet will be gone soon. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Well, you got your wish, you bastard.”

He pointed the blade towards his chest. He could hear the blade whispering his name. Even with the divine resistance he had against the dagger, he could still comprehend its beckoning, telling him to take the one person’s life he hated the most. It emanated a tempting spirit, composed of voices he couldn’t hear but could _feel._

“Humans are going to have the time of their lives when they hear the Devil’s pitiful existence has ceased. I’m sure you’ll twist the story to your narrative, of course you will. Perhaps you’ll fool them into thinking someone else got the deed done. Azrael herself maybe? Or maybe you’ll say you sent Gabriel. I’m sure the Silver City will rejoice once I’m gone,” Lucifer said with a strained voice.

What was the point of trying? Eons of him struggling to be his own person all vanished into nothing. It was useless rebelling against his father. He was created to question and desire, to want. What kind of a sick, twisted fate was this that his father had given him? Be given the purpose of desire, only to have it destroy him from inside and out? His entire life was one big celestial bird, wasn’t it?

The blade in his hands caught on fire, hungry embers licking the air.

He repositioned the blade.

“My dearest brothers and sisters,” he said softly, “I hope you all go to Hell. I know I am a monster, but,” his eyes stung, “I am your monster no longer, Father.”

And with that he sucked in a sharp breath, hands shaking violently. He raised the flaming dagger and struck down. It pierced the layers of clothing with the slightest pressure.

But he stopped himself before the razor edge tip of the blade tore through his flesh. It hovered just above his skin.

 

Something shuffled in the distance and the blade’s fire went out.

 

The sound set off a frenzy of panic in his mind. No one was supposed to be there. Ice cold terror set in his body, spreading through every inch of his being like poison. His heart beat wildly against his ribs like a crazed animal clawing at its cage.

“Lucifer?”

He turned to face the person standing in the staircase.

 

“Detective?” His hands shook harshly, thoughts and emotions racing in his mind and he was failing to get a hold of any of them. “Why are you here?”

 

Chloe was standing in the stairway, clutching her gun in her hands. Her eyes were wide open, refusing to believe the scene in front of her. Her awestruck expression sent a chill down Lucifer’s spine. Was she surprised? Scared?

“Lucifer, please put the knife down.” Her voice shook.

She took a step down the stairs towards him. And he took one step back.

“Detective, don’t come near me!”  Lucifer’s voice cracked. His breathing picked up and he took in shallow, panicked breaths.

Chloe immediately backed down. She slowly put her gun away in its holster and raised her palms up in defeat. “Okay, okay. I’m here, Lucifer, please…”

He recognized the look in her eyes finally. She was scared.

Of him? For him? He couldn’t tell.

“Oh Detective, I know you want to help,” he said. The adrenaline pumping in his veins triggered the pressure in his head to turn into a headache. “But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters.” He bit his lower lip to stop the tears from spilling.

“Lucifer,” she spoke softly, afraid that the tension between them would amplify if she raised her voice any higher, “I know you’ve been going through a lot recently. Things will get better, but please, let me help you. We’ll get through this together.” Her steel blue eyes pleaded him.

“I do want to believe that, Detective.”

“I want to help you, Lucifer. _Let me._ But I can’t do it without you.” Her voice was threatening to give way to a sob. “This punishment you’re seeking, it’s not going to fix anything. People care about you. _I_ care about you.”

A tide of worry churned his guts. He hated how the detective looked at him, begging him to drop the blade and stop what he was doing. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She didn’t deserve to be put through this. He wasn't worthy of being cared for, and the worry turned into self-hatred in a second for making her suffer. His thoughts raced in his mind.

“But I can’t allow you.” The blade was still pointing at his chest. The carvings of the handle left imprints on his skin as he gripped it with his might. “If you know the other side of me, _all_ of me, I-” he swallowed, contemplating his next words before continuing, “It’s hideous. It’s monstrous, Detective. You don’t deserve to see it.”

“I know that’s not true.”

Lucifer looked at her, puzzled. How could she think that, when the truth was so blatantly in front of her eyes?

“I’ve worked with you enough times to know that’s not who you are Lucifer. You might think of yourself the Devil, but I don’t believe that. I know that deep down you’re a good man, no matter how much you want to deny it,” She said. Her eyes were bloodshot from tears that were about to fall.

Slowly she took a step down the stairs. Lucifer didn’t move.

She continued, “I wanted to call you earlier today.”

Lucifer eyed her carefully as she came forward again.

“I was worried when you didn’t show up. I thought I’d give you some space since-” She swallowed her words. “since you needed to be alone. I wanted to ask you to spend time with me today. But you didn’t show up, and I got worried, so I came here.”

Did she now? Did she really care for him or was it just meaningless words to coax him out of this situation?

Who in their right mind would ever want to have him around?

He took a deep shaky breath. This couldn’t be right.

“And it’s not just me who cares for you. There are so many other people.”

“Like who?!” He yelled. The tension between them was so thick he could slice it with the blade if he tried. His voice was like sandpaper against his throat. “The only reason you, or anyone else _cares_ about me is because you don’t know me! You have no idea what I’ve done!” He screamed. His voice echoed in the empty club.

Chloe looked terrified.

Tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t control himself anymore.

The air between them was tense, like a string pulled to its threshold.

“What about your family? Your siblings-”

 

And with that, the string snapped.

 

“My family?!” He screamed. She had no idea did she? “This- all of this is their fault! Uriel, he’s- he’s gone! And it’s all my doing! And don’t even bring my brothers and sisters up!” He let out a harsh laugh, “What did they do when I was thrown out of the Silver City?! None of them did anything! Why would they ever care for Lucifer, the one brother who dared question their father’s will!?”

Chloe’s eyes darted from the blade to him and back.

“Lucifer, I’m sorry-”

“I am too, Detective.” His throat burned and for a moment he felt like he was going through Hell all over again.

Maybe he was.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw embers of fire flicker on the dagger’s steel.

That was his cue.

“Chloe,” he spoke softly again, “I want you to know that none of this is your fault. But you deserve better than this.”

_Better than me._

For a moment everything seemed to pause. Chloe froze in her place and for a brief second Lucifer was terrified he’d changed his mind and backed out like he always did. Or if he was none the wiser, he’d think Amenadiel was there to ridicule him at his lowest point.

He blinked. Once, twice. Then the world hurled at him. He snapped out of it and jerked his hands to his chest.

The angelic metal of the blade tore his skin and bones and he couldn’t help but let out a shriek as he fell to the floor. The shard of glass coating the floor cut his hands but the pain didn’t match up to the dagger jutting out of his chest. His vision went blurry and he heard a scream, but he couldn’t understand the words.

He could feel his blood seeping out of the wound and his energy being sapped away, pools of red liquid forming beneath him already.

The room spun around his head.

A phantom of a smile traced his lips. Maybe where he was headed was nothing but a dark void where his father couldn’t control him. He liked the idea.

His eyes fluttered. An abnormal cold was taking over his body but he could do little to stop it.

He felt a foreign pressure on his arms and his eyes flicked open. His vision was dark but through the fuzziness he saw Chloe’s terrified face above his. Tears streamed down her cheeks and he felt a pang of regret for forcing her to experience this torture.

She was sitting next to him. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!”

“I’m- sorry, Detective.” He sucked in a breath which set off a violent cough. Drops of blood coated his dry lips.

A terrifying thought settled in his mind.

He brought a hand up to the dagger, mustering every last drop of energy he had to power through the task. His fingers wrapped around the hilt and he pulled the blade out with a sickening wet sound. His sight swam and he gasped at the pain. He heard Chloe yell his name.

Before he could allow himself to succumb he threw the blade over his head. He heard the metal clang somewhere on the floor.

He couldn’t let Chloe touch it. That was the least he could do for her in his state.

“I’m going to get help, please hang on,” He heard her say through sobs. He could feel her hands on his chest, ripping open the shirt to treat the wound. He wanted to make a quip about her undressing him, but his vocal chords gave up on him. The searing pain of the open wound forced him to hold onto the closest thing nearby, which was Chloe’s arm.

He let his eyes close. He could feel the darkness enveloping him slowly. Soon, nothing would matter.

“Lucifer, Lucifer- please stay awake!”

He didn’t want to.

Flashes of Hell appeared in his vision but they faded to nothing as abruptly as they started.

The last thing he remembered was her wide-eyed, innocent face, then the dark cloud of nothingness swallowed him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you hit rock bottom, there's no way to go but up.


	3. Perfectly Out Of Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> I'm sorry for the long wait D: I took a trip and when I got back personal issues held me from writing. But I've returned and you get to read a whopping 4.8k words in this chapter so I hope it makes up for the wait! For some reason, Chloe's POV was more challenging to write than Lucifer's but I'm happy with what I've written.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feedback, your comments fuel me to write more and I am so happy that you've tagged along for the ride.
> 
> Title credit goes to Dreams We’ve Had. I dearly hope you listen to the songs I choose for each chapter because they reflect the mood of the story.  
> Anyways, enjoy.

“This is Detective Chloe Decker, I need an ambulance _right now_!” Her voice was on the cusp of giving up on her.

There was blood everywhere.

Chloe held Lucifer’s hand in hers, feeling his clammy, cold skin under her touch. The contact made her breath hitch. She was on the verge of breaking apart, fissuring under the pressure and giving up. Her mind demanded her to cry and let the tears flow, to crumple to the floor and stop what she was doing. A train wreck of emotions brewed inside of her.

But she couldn’t. She had to stay strong for him.

“Why?” The question fell from her lips quietly.

Had she been so neglectful to let him slip under her watch like that? If only she had paid more attention, maybe she could have helped Lucifer, maybe she could have stopped this. Everything was in front of her and yet she had decided to brush them off so selfishly.

This was her fault.

It was so stupid of her to let him leave the crime scene like that. _Stupid, stupid, stupid-_

Lucifer’s raspy breathing caught her attention. The pained sound was like a slap to the face, grounding her. She brought a hand to his cheek, feeling the coarse stubble on her palm. Her free hand immediately went to his neck and fingers rested on his veins. The pulse was weak, but still there, beating faintly.

He looked so broken.

Terror held her in its grasp as she had painstakingly treated the gash on his chest, blood spilling out in scary amounts. Chloe cursed at herself as she applied bandages she had retrieved from the first aid kit; her knowledge on treating injuries was insufficient. She hated how useless she was, having to watch Lucifer bleed out to death-

 _No._ He wasn’t dying.

Chloe took in a shaky breath as the distant sound of sirens reached her ears.

Then everything was a blur of paramedics and people flooding the club. She was whisked away from his side unwillingly as she held onto him, her fingers laced into his. She didn’t want to let go. His name was ripped out of her throat in a harsh yell as she was dragged from his side.

Before she knew it, he was taken away. His form looked so out of place on the white sheets of the stretcher that rushed him out of Lux.

Lucifer was gone.

*

Her shaking fingers were tapping numbers on her cellphone again.

Chloe sat on the bland seats of the hospital. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor, jumping up and down and sending tremors up her leg with every movement. People passed by her, talking and rushing from place to place, but she felt foreign next to them.

She had tailed the ambulance to the hospital in her car. Lucifer was taken straight to surgery and a nurse had told her to wait, not replying a word to her torrent of questions. It was agonizing sitting there, doing nothing while Lucifer was fighting for his life. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

Chloe closed her eyes and slowly breathed in and out.

She hit dial on her phone.

“What’s up, Chloe,” Dan’s voice spoke on the line. A weak smile appeared on Chloe’s lips; his voice was firm, reassuring.

“Dan,” Her voice shook, “I’m- I’m at the hospital.” She failed to keep the pain in her words hidden.

“Chloe, what’s wrong?”

“Please, just come over,” she pleaded, “I’m fine. Just, please come when you can.”

“Chloe, tell me what’s going on.”

She curled her lips before she gave in. “Lucifer, he’s- he’s hurt.”

Worry and guilt hit her in waves. She couldn’t explain any more than that. Not without breaking down. Luckily Dan didn’t question her further.

“Shit,” There was a shuffling noise on the phone, “Okay, I’ll come after my shift. I’ll get a sitter for Trixie and be there. Where are you?”

She racked her brain for an answer; it was hard to concentrate. “Cedars-Sinai Medical Center,” she replied, remembering one of the paramedics telling her the name before they rushed out of the club.

“Alright, sit tight.”

He hung up.

The phone rested in her hand, pressed to her ear as she listened to the constant buzz of the dead line. She swallowed the lump in her throat and dialed the numbers again.

“Please pick up,” She said to herself as the phone rang.

“Yes?”

She sighed in relief at the voice. “Amenadiel, I need you to come over,” She cut to the chase.

“What- Chloe?”

Tears pricked her eyes. “At Lux, Lucifer, he-” She couldn’t piece the words together properly, the tremor in her throat creeping back to her voice.

“Whoa whoa, calm down.”

“Just come over please. I’ll text you the details.”

What was she supposed to say?

The scene played out in front of her eyes once more; the blade tearing apart the soft skin, Lucifer’s scream upon contact, red stains everywhere-

“Alright, I’ll be there right away,” he replied. She hung up without another word.

Chloe tucked her phone away in her bag after sending him the location. And then she waited.

And waited.

Dried blood stained her hands and shirt but she couldn’t even begin to think about removing them. She couldn’t bring herself to wipe it away without recalling the nightmare.

She tried so hard but in the end she messed it up.

Chloe buried her face in her hands. The lump in her throat hurt.

“I’m such a terrible friend,” she spoke out loud. She could have stopped this. How was Lucifer even going to feel after this whole mess? Chloe frowned remembering every time her partner lashed out, his mental health deteriorating right in front of her eyes yet all she ever did was yell at him and send him away.

She was going to help him recover. If he woke up-

“Stop it,” she scolded herself. He _was_ going to wake up from surgery. He had to.

She needed him.

Lucifer was kind, selfless. Behind the loud exuberant front he put on he was just a man with all his faults and shortcomings, but still caring. Whatever he was going through, he didn’t deserve it. No one did.

She stared at the white soulless tiles of the hospital floor, trying to make sense of her thoughts.

Why wouldn’t he talk to her?

It hurt her heart knowing Lucifer wouldn’t confide in her after all they had experienced together. An awful feeling pooled in her chest and she grimaced at the sensation. She wanted to be mad at him, but she didn’t have that right.

Surely she must have done something wrong to make Lucifer feel that way.

Chloe shook her head. She had to start bettering herself. For his sake.

Minutes passed by and she watched the handle on the reception’s clock creep closer to four. The detective sat there like a hollow husk, waiting for anyone to give her some reassuring news that Lucifer was fine. Chloe perked up with each approaching nurse but sunk back in her seat when none of them walked up to her to say anything.

After a while she was almost lulled to sleep, her neck tilted to the side at an awkward angle.

A firm hand gently grabbed her by the shoulder and squeezed. Her eyes snapped open. For a short second she thought it was her partner, coming back to tell her everything was fine, that he wasn’t hurt and she wasn’t a terrible person for not paying attention to him.

“Amenadiel,” She spoke. He wore a worried expression, expectant eyes waiting for her to tell him what was wrong.

“Chloe, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes trailed to her red hands.

Chloe got up from her seat, body aching from sitting in one place for too long. Her hand went to her hair and grabbed a fistful.

“I wanted to talk to Lucifer today, I went to Lux, but he- he-” A jumble of words came to her mind, each struggling to get out of her mouth.

Her lips trembled. Chloe had held herself up for so long, not letting her confidence falter. Her mind hadn’t had a moment to process what she had gone through, failing to keep Lucifer from taking his life right in front of her eyes.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

Chloe wrapped her arms around Amenadiel and buried her face in his shirt. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop him but I couldn’t- the blade, oh God I can’t believe it-” Tears she had held back for so long spilled down her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to keep him from doing it, I’m so sorry Amenadiel, there was so much blood everywhere-” The stream of tears continued and the tightness in her throat held her from talking any further. Her shoulders shook. Her sobs were muffled against the soft fabric of his shirt.

His strong arms wrapped around her after a few second’s pause as she cried with her face buried in his chest.

“Chloe, please.” He was visibly worried but he didn’t pry or turn her away. He gently rubbed circles on her back and let her weep.

She held on to him for a minute.

Amenadiel put a hand on her back and gently invited her to the seats. He took the empty spot next to her and patiently looked at her.

Chloe inhaled. She had to tell him, no matter how painful it was to her.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Lucifer tried to- he stabbed himself.” Chloe didn’t want to see the look of shock on Amenadiel’s face, so instead she chose to stare at the beaten floor tiles and folded her arms.

“Heavens,” was all he said, but concern coated his voice.

Chloe’s eyes stung from exhaustion. She shook her head and sniffed, “I’m so sorry, I tried to stop him but I made a mistake, this is my fault.” She dared to look back up to him.

“Don’t apologize, if there’s anyone to blame… it should be me. What a mess…”

Chloe didn’t reply.

“Any news?”

“No. They said something about too much blood loss and took him away. I haven’t heard anything since.”

Amenadiel nodded, eyes momentarily falling to the floor. “Wait here,” he quickly got up and vanished into the crowd of patients and people.

Soon he reappeared with a bottle of water in hand. Chloe smiled at the gesture as he handed it to her.

“Thank you.” She said weakly. He sat next to her again, waiting for her to drink before he spoke.

“You said he stabbed himself?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“With what?”

“Excuse me?” Chloe blurted.

“Can you describe what he used?”

“Uh,” Chloe shook her head, not able to comprehend where Amenadiel was going with the question. “It had a long blade, I’m not sure. It’s hard to remember.”

“Was it curved?”

“Curved? No, no it wasn’t.”

Amenadiel’s eyes widened, brows arching at her response. A pang of panic hit her. Did she say something wrong?

“Oh, this is bad,” he exclaimed. “Did come in contact with it?” His eyes examined her carefully. Chloe caught the tinge of dread in his words.

“No, he threw it somewhere.” She bit the inside of her cheek. This was painful to talk about and she hated how Amenadiel was asking her for details.

Flashes of the blade glinting in the lights of the club appeared before her.

“Where were you when it happened?”

“At Lux.”

He shot up from his seat, making Chloe jump a bit in surprise.

“I uh, got something to take care of. I’ll be back soon,” He said and hurried away to the exit, leaving her without any explanation.

Chloe stared at him from her place, eyeing him until his form disappeared in the crowd.

She was alone again, left to drown in her thoughts.

She held her head in her hands and sobbed.

*

Nothing.

At first, that was all he saw. The darkness was welcoming, enveloping him like a warm blanket on a cold night. He basked in the oblivion. For once he was at peace, without drowning in the human emotions he had been so caught up in.

Except, one thing was wrong.

He shouldn’t be _feeling_ anything.

Lucifer heard the echoes of something familiar. It was faint and gentle like lazy rays of sunlight glowing through curtains. Then it slowly grew clearer, taking the shape of a human’s voice.

“Lucifer,” It called.

He couldn’t quite place the tone. It was just in his reach but his mind couldn’t make sense of it.

The sounds faded in and out, sometimes clear and other times mumbled but couldn’t catch the rest of the words. Through the darkness a soft dazzle of light appeared, steadily spreading and lighting up his vision.

The voices got clearer. A man and a woman, talking back and forth.

His body was slowly waking up. First he sensed the twitching of his fingers, then his chest rising and falling.

He was breathing.

Which meant he wasn’t dead.

His mind started working in a daze, putting two and two together. The smell of alcohol reached his nose and a wave of worry washed over him.

He didn’t know where he was, and that was terrifying.

His breathing picked up.

His eyes felt as heavy as lead, but with cumbersome effort he finally opened them. Everything was a shapeless blob in his vision at first.

“Lucifer!”

“Ch-Chl-” Lucifer’s voice failed to accompany him, instead coming out as a rough sputter. He blinked a few times and his sight became more vivid, taking in his environment.

Then, she came into view.

“Chloe?” Lucifer sluggishly tilted his head in her direction. The last bit of fuzziness left his eyesight and he saw her beautiful face, lips curling into a soft smile with her reddened eyes crinkling at the gesture.

His head swayed from her to the room, taking in his surroundings.

White walls. White sheets. IV tubes running all the way into his arms. The atrocious blue robes he was wearing. The putrid smell of antiseptic. Chloe, looking more disheveled than he had ever seen her, sitting in a chair next to the bed. _His_ bed.

_Bloody Hell._

Then he remembered everything.

The sudden rush of information made his head spin. Lucifer let out a grunt and brought a hand to his forehead, eyes darting from place to place. He connected the dots; he wasn’t dead, quite the opposite unfortunately. After everything he’d put the Detective through, refusing her help and leaving her at crime scenes when she needed him the most, how could she still bring herself to help him? How did she not run away from him even after he scared her so much at the club?

If she had the slightest idea what he had done, how much of a monster he truly was, if only she had seen his real face- why did she bother so much? He didn’t deserve her affection or time of the day; he was the Devil for crying out loud, evil, terrifying, he shouldn’t be alive-

The welcoming touch of her skin against his brought him back. He averted his gaze back at her, slowly, afraid that she would shy away if he made any sudden moves. He watched as she intertwined her fingers into his. Lucifer grimaced; he wanted to cherish every moment he had with her but this wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be holding his hand looking at him all doe-eyed as if she was staring at stars dotting the night sky.

His eyes were glassy and he was ashamed of looking at her. The sight of their hands holding made warmness pool in his chest. It calmed his racked nerves, even if it was only for a little while.

“Dan, can you please give us a moment?” Chloe spoke, not taking her eyes off Lucifer. It was only then that Lucifer noticed Daniel standing quietly in the corner of the room opposite to his bed, arms folded. He nodded without a word and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Bloody Hell, Lucifer wasn’t going to hear the end of it now was he? Detective Douche probably had a good gander at him in his sorry state and laughed his ass off when he was out. His face contorted into a frown, lips pressed together.

But that was a subject to worry about at another time.

He tried to sit up. Chloe’s firm hands supported his back and helped him up, then she readjusted the pillow so Lucifer could lean against it.

“Thank you,” he said, then they both fell quiet. Chloe held his hand again.

The silence was crushing, weighing him down like he was drowning in a body of water. His gaze lingered on their hands.

Chloe finally spoke, her calming voice a welcome sound to his ears. “How are you doing?”

Lucifer finally dared to look at her. She looked tired with her hair sticking out from the ponytail she always tied it in, eyes bloodshot and he instantly knew she had cried. The sight struck an awful feeling in his guts. He wanted to hug her, hold her there and tell her she was going to be okay, but it was no use when he himself was the cause. He hid the thought away in the back of his mind.

“I…” he replied. _Awful. Like I flew into a solar storm. Frankly Detective I’m not even sure why I should be breathing right now._ “I will be fine, Detective.”

“Lucifer,” she started, and instantly panic set into his mind.

“Please,” he cut through her words before she could go on further. His eyes were glassy. “Chloe, I... I understand how you’re feeling. Save yourself the trouble of telling me how reckless I was, or how selfish I was for… doing what I did. If you want to leave that’s totally acceptable and you’re completely within your rights to do so. You, Detective,” he swallowed, “are selfless to a nauseating degree. But everyone has their limit. So please, do what you must. You can tell me to never come back to you or pester you at the precinct and I will not question a word you say.”

The words burned his throat. He couldn’t blame her if she was there to push him away and tell him to never show up in front of her again. He couldn’t imagine any other scenario than that. The sentiment clawed at his heart, making his breathing shallow and rapid. He was sure Chloe felt the warmth of his hands seeping away, being replaced by cold nervousness.

After a few second’s pause which seemed to stretch and turn into agonizing minutes, Chloe shook her head ever so gently. Lucifer was surprised to see concern in her blue eyes instead of the pity or anger he was expecting.

“No, Lucifer, that’s not what I was going to say.”

Lucifer tilted his head to the side in question, lips parted. “But Detective, I saw it, I saw how scared you were when I-”

“I was.”

The color drained from Lucifer’s face. He was so ready to back away and shut her out and never allow himself to be this intimate again. “Of… me?” He said.

Chloe widened her eyes and leaned in from her seat, inching closer to the bed. She wrapped both hands around his, holding onto him like he would slip away if she loosened her grip.

“For you! I was scared _for you_!”

“But Detective-”

“Lucifer, just shut up for a moment,” she replied, lips tightening into a thin line. Lucifer looked at her with curiosity, eyebrows cocked up. “I wasn’t scared of you. When I got to Lux everything was such a mess and I was worried for you. I never thought you felt so terrible to want to hurt yourself like this.” She tiptoed around her words, careful with what she said to him. “I’m sorry for every time I yelled at you, or told you to go away. I feel like I have been the worst friend for you and I let you slip right under my watch. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t confide in me. I let my judgement get the best of me. We’re partners, and partners should be there for each other.” Her eyes glistened.

Lucifer’s throat tightened at her reply.

“Why?” He mustered his strength to speak but his voice was shaky and unsure. It was like treading through a landmine, careful where to set foot unless he said something wrong and everything blew up in his face.

Chloe squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Because I care for you.”

And how could he not believe her? After all she had gone through for him, he couldn’t deny it anymore. She could have left him to bleed out then and there, she could have abandoned him. Her sad, tired eyes and the dark rings underneath them told him enough already. Hell, she even went out of her way to check Lux, because she really did care, even if he thought he didn’t deserve it.

“But Detective…” A voice in his mind screamed at him that he shouldn’t accept this, that if he told Chloe the truth it was going to end in misery. And he knew that fact very, very well, even if it killed him on the inside. He felt his heart being impaled by raw sadness. “You don’t know what I’ve done. If you knew-” He stopped himself. He didn’t want to think about that possibility. “I don’t want to lose you, Chloe.”

A fuzzy feeling overwhelmed Lucifer when he saw the smile on her face. It spread through every inch of his body. It felt intoxicating, better than any high sex or drugs could ever offer, something he never thought possible. He wanted to bask in it and cherish every single second of it. It should have been scary how much power she held over him without even knowing, but somehow, it filled him with bliss. His stomach felt empty like when he would dive through the sky and plunge towards the Earth; it was exhilarating. It made him feel alive.

 

And that was exactly the reason why he had to hide the truth.

 

If she knew, everything was bound to crash and burn around him and shatter his soul to the core. He couldn’t take another heartbreak.

“You’re right. I don’t know what you’ve done.” Her blue eyes gazed into his and he drank in the sight like wine. “That’s why I’m asking you to let me help you.”

Lucifer didn’t reply. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he was sure Chloe could hear its uncontrollable thrumming against his ribcage. Every logical part of his mind screamed at him to deny her help. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her how much of a horrible idea this was, but a stifled voice came out instead.

Her features softened and she continued, “I don’t know what you’re going through. But watching you suffer so much and hurting yourself, it’s killing me. I want to help you. Please, let me.”

He couldn’t accept it. He _shouldn’t._

He wanted to tell her the truth but at the same time the thought of losing her terrified him to Hell and back. She was the only person who had gotten past the barriers he had put up and she had seen him at his barest. If she knew how much of a terrible person he was, she would run away like everyone else. And if that happened Lucifer wasn’t sure if he could keep his sanity.

“Please.” She repeated, desperate to receive a response.

Lucifer peered at her silently. He couldn’t. Just because he wanted to accept her help didn’t mean he should do it.

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two. They looked at each other in silence that ruled over them.

Lucifer tore his gaze away from her.

Chloe sighed and lowered her head. Fear struck at Lucifer’s heartstrings as her grip around his hand loosened, the terror hitting him like ice water being dumped over his body. He bit down on his lips; it was better this way, if she stayed a minute longer he would break down and accept her help-

The chair scraped against the floor and Chloe got up. Lucifer caught a glimpse of the tears welling in her eyes as she bent down to grab her purse. Time seemed to slow down when she turned her back on him to walk out of the room.

_You’re being a selfish bastard. Look at how you’re making her feel._

He was doing it again, wasn’t he? He was being so eccentric and self-centered he was hurting Chloe again and again. He couldn’t help himself. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth like poison. His heart broke watching her try so hard to help him but he had pushed her away, even if that was the best for both of them.

Something worse came to mind. What if declining her help made everything worse?

Every rational part of him screamed at him to run away and shut her out.

 

Just when Chloe was about to take a step away from the bed, Lucifer lunged forward from his place and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

 

The action sent a jolt of pain through his abdomen and he wheezed as the air was knocked out of his lungs. His vision became dark and the room began to spin around his head. Lucifer let out a shriek, his free hand going to his bandaged wound while the other still held onto Chloe like a lifeline.

“Lucifer!” She spat and rushed back to him, dropping her purse to the floor. “Are you okay?”

Lucifer brought a finger up, silently signaling her to wait. The pain slowly subsided and he struggled to breath for a second, but air filled his lungs once more and he sank back into the pillow behind him.

“I’m… fine, Detective,” he wheezed. Chloe looked very unconvinced by his words.

“I’m going to call a nurse,” she said with a hard expression.

“No, please don’t.” He gently tugged at her hand and Chloe’s features instantly softened. “Please, stay.”

He was a selfish bastard, he knew it. But he couldn’t push her away any longer, not after all she had done for him. He was doing this for her sake, no matter how hard every part of him told him not to accept her help.

The detective nodded with understanding eyes. She let go of him and brought back the chair to the bed, this time placing it as close to him as she could.

Lucifer took a deep breath. He sat up once more, his movements calculated and slow so the fresh wound wouldn’t cause another bout of pain.

“Lucifer, please promise me one thing." Chloe spoke.

“Yes?”

“Promise me you will never hurt yourself like this again.”

He couldn’t even think of saying no to her.

He nodded his head. “For you Detective, I promise. And you know-”

“You’re a Devil of your word.” She completed his line for him. Lucifer smiled.

Once again silence filled the air, this time missing the previous tension.

Chloe waited patiently for him to speak.

Lucifer toyed with the words in his mind, not quite sure what to say or where to even begin.

He looked at the detective.

The pain and guilt were catching up to him again, it was getting too much to bear just like before and his breath hitched at the thought, it was too much, he could feel tears threatening to spill-

 

“My brother died.” He finally said, his voice nothing but a whisper.

 

Chloe gasped. “Lucifer, I’m so sorry.” He was caught by surprise as she sat on the edge of the bed and hugged him.

And with that the walls he had tried so hard to hold up broke down to a million pieces.

He wrapped his arms around her middle and buried his head into the crook of Chloe’s neck. He couldn’t stay strong anymore. Tears fell down his cheeks. His body tremored from the raw emotion he finally allowed himself to feel.

“It’s okay, it’s okay to cry.” Chloe stroked his back with her kind hands.

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! They're finally talking :D  
> Let me know what you think and thank you for reading :)


	4. Northern Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> I'm back.
> 
> This chapter's shorter than the others but I did feel like the story needed a breather after all the intense scenes happening back to back. I could have written more but I really didn't want to hold off updating this story any longer.
> 
> Thank you for your sweet sweet comments, I'm super thrilled that people are enjoying this fic so far.  
> Oh and would you look at that, season 4 is coming out tomorrow!
> 
> Title credits goes to Death Cab For Cutie.  
> Enjoy <3

The room was quiet.

The last rays of light shone through the hospital curtains and highlighted the specks of dust scattered about. Lucifer spectated the streets from the window close by, still seated on the bed. The few stars that managed to shine brighter than the Los Angeles lights dotted the sky. It was nearly nightfall.

It had been just about twenty four hours since everything had gone to Hell.

Lucifer grimaced, every line in his body pulled tight as he clutched the bottle of alcohol that had somehow found its way to his hands. He must be looking pathetic.

He had to leave.

He couldn’t stand being there for even one more second.

Bitterness jabbed at him from the back of his mind. Just an hour ago he held the Detective in his embrace, clinging to her and letting his emotions run free. He had sat there for long, his tired form shaking from the sheer intensity of sadness before he finally let go of Chloe.

He thought he’d feel better if he told her about Uriel’s death.

Now, he just felt empty inside.

Vulnerable, even. Like delicate china in Chloe’s hands and one uncalculated move was enough for his soul to break into bits like porcelain hitting cold floor.

He wondered if he had made the right decision telling her what had happened, the sentiment making him uneasy and anxious. The thought of making everything worse between him and Chloe made a dull ache pound in his chest.

Lucifer grunted, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a swig of the bitter drink to sooth his nerves.

The room was empty except for him, Chloe’s absence making him more anxious by every passing moment. She had only excused herself to get food, but even then Lucifer felt on edge. Worry swarmed his mind for what was to come between them.

He hoped that she would get back sooner, before his inevitable cycle of self-loathing started.

He drank from the bottle again before shoving it under the pillow, not really wanting to get an earful from the Detective. He vaguely remembered a nurse coming in after Chloe’s departure. She had started explaining what had happened to him and what procedures he had gone through, but he wasn’t exactly paying attention to her. Instead Lucifer had asked the nurse to bring him something to drink and of course, she couldn’t resist his charms.

Lucifer’s hands absently went to his robes, raising the garment up and exposing his toned chest. He carefully removed the bandages that were wrapped around his form.

Beneath them sutures held his skin together where the dagger had struck, forming a jagged line on his left pectoral.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at the sight. Something about it struck him odd; the blade was most definitely strong enough to sap life out of any living being. Then why on Earth had he not succumbed to his wound?

He shivered at the thought. The memory of Chloe’s terror-struck face appeared in his mind, her strained voice screaming his name when he fell to the floor with a thud. Guilt started to creep up to him again.

He couldn’t entertain the idea any further as he heard steps at the door. He let go of the robes, his hands falling to his sides in a swift move.

There was a knock on the door, then it swung open and warmth flooded the room with Chloe’s presence.

She put a genuine smile on his face.

“Ah, Detective!” Lucifer’s voice boomed with energy it lacked just moments before, “I was starting to get bored in this place. Come on in now.” He steeled his spine and sat upright on the edge of bed as she approached and took the empty chair next to him.

Her hair was tied up into a neat bun once more and she no longer sported the blood soaked shirt and pants. With tired eyes she looked at him and Lucifer beamed back at her, peering at her eyes that sparkled with ever-present kindness.

His smile fell.

Behind the twinkle of warmth, he saw something else.

 “You have questions.” He spoke softly though anxiety spiked in his chest. “I can tell.”

Chloe’s eyebrows knitted together. “How did you…?”

“The eyes are windows to the soul, Detective.”

Chloe gazed at the floor for a second before leaning back in the chair.

He waited in anticipation. When she didn’t immediately continue, he encouraged her with a gentle yet curious nod.

Chloe licked her lips before she spoke. “The things you said yesterday… did you mean them?”

Lucifer’s shoulders tensed at her question and he saw a tinge of panic set into her eyes. His chest suddenly felt constricted.

He remembered seeing her on the stairs at the club.

“How much… did you hear me speak?” He asked.

“Enough.”

Lucifer bit on his lips, chewing on a sliver of skin. “I may have said some things that do not reflect reality.”

“Lucifer.” The stern tone of her voice did not slip by him. “Did you mean them?”

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say. “Perhaps. I’m not entirely sure. Not with you going through all this trouble for me.”

She shook her head softly. “I’m here for you, Lucifer.”

“And I you, Detective.”

Chloe smiled before clearing her throat to speak.

“When my dad died, I didn’t cry at his funeral.”

Lucifer gazed at her curiously, waiting to see where she went with her words.

Chloe went on, “I didn’t allow myself to mourn him for the longest time. It felt so wrong to me. Looking back on it now, I think I was just looking for a way to keep feeling guilty. It felt like I had let him down with my acting career and I could never make it up to him anymore.” She paused to swallow the lump in her throat.

“What did you do?” Lucifer asked, prompting her to keep going.

“Drowned myself in work to follow in my dad’s footsteps. I kept avoiding thinking about him for the longest time and I created a toxic bubble of negative emotions around me. I ended up breaking down at some point and crying to my mom about it.” She took a deep breath. “All I’m trying to say is, I couldn’t move on until I allowed myself to process his death properly. I know your brother’s passing is hard on you. But you need to stop being so harsh on yourself.” She leaned in from her seat. “Promise me one more thing.”

“And that is?”

“Please get help. We can get you admitted to a mental hospital.” Her voice shook with uncertainty.

“Oh no, no, no no no.” Lucifer brought his hands up and waved them about. “Not a slightest chance I’m staying at a loony bin. I can’t even stand to wear robes like this for another moment.”

Chloe looked at him with wide eyes.

“It’s not a “loony bin”, I just- I’m worried for you.” Her voice tremored once more and Lucifer felt his heart get impaled by guilt, though somehow this felt more painful than a dagger to the chest.

She continued, “At least promise me you’ll go see Linda. I can’t keep you here against your will, but can you do this _for me_?”

The look of hurt on her face made ice run through Lucifer’s veins.

 _Don’t be a selfish bastard,_ he reminded himself.

Carefully, he leaned closer to her from the edge of the bed. He took her hands in his and smiled weakly when she didn’t flinch or move away. The physical contact was enough to brush away his worries, sparks of happiness flying around in his guts.

It was amazing how she had that effect on him.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy, Detective. You make every day worth living.”

Lucifer caught glimpse of the faintest blush on her cheeks, her eyes reflecting all the surprise in the world. It made his heart sing stronger than any orchestra. Giddiness pounded in his chest, sweet and saccharine like honey. It was warm enough to make his insides melt. He wanted to relive it again and again.

“Thank you.”

They sat there for a minute before either of them spoke. Lucifer stroked circular patterns on the back of Chloe’s hands. She gave him a reassuring squeeze in return.

He gazed at her soft features and how they contrasted against the sharp angle of her jawline. She looked as beautiful as ever, but the bags underneath her puffy eyes made him frown.

“You should go home, Detective.” Chloe opened her mouth to protest but Lucifer cut her off gently. “No, I mean it. Get some rest. I’m sure the Spawn misses you too. I’ve put you through a lot today.”

“Lucifer, I’ll be fine.”

The muscles in his jaw pulled tight. She was probably scared he would hurt himself again and next time she wouldn’t be there to stop it.

Lucifer put on a confident smile to reassure her. “I can take care of myself. Don’t you trust me?”

Chloe’s posture softened at his words. “Of course I do.”

“Then go on, be on your merry way.”

She nodded understandingly. Lucifer was disappointed as the warmth of her hands left his. She gathered her belongings and walked to the door.

She looked back at him before leaving. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow it is.” He flashed her a smile. The door clicked shut behind her as she exited the room.

The place instantly felt drained of any spirit, to Lucifer’s dismay.

He took a deep breath. He had to get out of the place and get some proper clothes. He had promised Chloe that he wouldn’t do anything, but that didn’t mean he would let himself rot away in some stupid hospital where doctors tried to make sense of his angelic biology.

Lucifer pulled the IV drips out of his arms with a hiss. Pain shot through his abdomen and sides as he stood up, the wound on his chest still fresh and hurting.

He had a lot to think about. And with that, he needed a lot of whiskey.

To Lux it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3 let me know what you think!


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